


work from home

by retrosas



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Gen, M/M, irregular updates, possible ooc, quarantine au?, read notes!!, this is so self indulgent it hurts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27364927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrosas/pseuds/retrosas
Summary: It's quarantine and everyone had to stay home. Keiji has a hard time looking for food, and Osamu needed to keep business going. Thanks to social media, they both get what they're looking for, and maybe even more than that.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 20
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> based on my thought dump [ here ](https://twitter.com/sagikaashi/status/1323460732541829120) and i want to expound on it but idk _when_ or _how_ so ill uh leave this as a two shot _for now_ and see where it goes?? sdjngjksd idk yet but i have ideas but yes
> 
> note: this is based in my experience during quarantine! a lot of condo/apartment people formed groups to better disseminate news and to have a place to sell stuff! for some its new but for some its not. same goes for villages/subdivisions! it also helped us organize relief good since, yk, same area. we also have rules on face masks and shields so yea idrk if these r happening the same way in japan so there could be a lot of inaccuracies but hey this is fanfiction so woo creative freedom huehue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keiji discovers Facebook groups, a little bit of gastronomic heaven, and a very attractive chef who needs a better product photographer in the midst of a pandemic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not proofread yet bcs again im at work so yes! might edit stuff later on
> 
> i hope yall enjoy!!

Akaashi Keiji likes food.

With quarantine imposed, it's been harder to get the food he wants or the ingredients he's looking for. Leaving home is anxiety-inducing in itself, and once he's out, he has to deal with people either panic buying if he comes at the wrong time, or he has to deal with his anxiety of crowds getting worse in fear of the virus.

Luckily, he was able to buy more than enough food, processed and raw, to last him for a while. He was also able to shop at certain times of the day that avoided crowds and left him with more than enough options to choose from.

But that was three months ago.

Contrary to his lean build, Keiji was a big eater—he just worked out well enough to burn them off, plus he had a crazy good metabolism on his side too. He was also a stress eater, and working from home has caused him so much stress that, well, it makes sense that the food that should've lasted him at least four months was slowly depleting.

Quarantine regulations have been looser lately, so really, it would be easier for Keiji to buy more groceries than aren't available in his convenience store—nothing really beat real groceries after all. But with work from home becoming more stable and in turn, more stressful, it's been hard to even think about leaving the house, let alone dealing with the now growing crowds.

Which leads him to his new source of stress: where the heck will he get food now?

Bokuto-san and Udai-san have suggested he order take out even though he wasn't a fan of fast food, but at this point, beggars can't be choosers. For a while, he stuck out with his limited options of restaurants as some still remained closed, but he'll take what he can get. A lot of them weren't his taste, and he's had to put in some very specific requests so they'd be closer to what he normally ate (which was, for a lack of a better word, healthier).

That grew boring fast, and Keiji was back to the metaphorical drawing board of _what do I eat now_. Yukie-san, bless her soul, suggested: "Well, why don't 'cha try going through Facebook? Join some groups for your city or your building. Homemade stuff are getting all the attention now, especially since lots'a chefs are staying at home too."

Chefs. Homecooked meals. Online. No contact.

Keiji didn't need to be told twice.

To his surprise, his apartment building did have an online group of sorts—the Galaxy Apartment Building Community, they call it. He's been here for the past two years, but he's never actually done anything remarkable to foster that sense of community...not until today, four months into quarantine as he clicks the join group button and answers all the questions—what's your unit number, what's your name, do you agree to the rules. He does the same to the group of his city, and then, he waits.

The next day, he gets the notification that he's been accepted to both groups and he spends all his lunch break that afternoon going through all the homecooked meals he's missed out on. All the rice bowls he could've had if he only knew earlier, all the raw ingredients he needed for a meal that he could've gotten in exchange for doing small favors instead of going all the way to the convenience store nearby—there were so many things that Keiji didn't understand just how did he not think of this. And a lot of this stuff looked so _good_.

He bookmarks and saves all the stuff he'd like to either recreate himself or order cooked and promises to get back to them after his work. When he was done for the day, he opens up his Facebook app and before he could check the saved posts, he gets a notification from the apartment community group—yes, he turned on notifictions from both groups, it was a necessity.

> **_New Post from Onigiri Miya_ **

Keiji's eyes sparkled with interest. Onigiri? _R i c e?_

He tapped the notification and was sent to a post published no less than ten minutes ago; the picture featured a plate with three different kinds of onigiri, and on the bottom of each were their prices edited onto it. He questions the angling for a while because that could've been done better to better show the glory of such good, but shakes his head and moves his eyes to focus on the caption.

> _**Onigiri Miya:** Tomorrow's offerings! Plain, spicy cucumber, tuna mayo. Comment quantity + type. Will close comments at 20:00. Max 6 per person. Delivery at 12._

Well, he could write that better too, but Keiji won't nitpick. He checks the time—18:00. Huh, two hours. That seems reasonable.

He accidentally refreshes the page and then—holy shit that's...that's a lot of comments. His eyes widen at the steady influx of comments, seeing some people order one of each while some went for six in total. He watches as the comments breach into the '30s, and he wonders, 'Is this guy's food really that good, or are people just desperate to eat?' And really, it says something that both were very viable options, especially the last one.

Keiji wanted to spend a few more minutes to think about what to order, as well as see if this Onigiri Miya had any other posts and if there any reviews on his food. After all, Keiji wanted to eat but he wanted to eat good food, and he wanted to make sure that this Onigiri Miya guy was an okay guy, because what if he did make good food but was of bad character in Keiji's book? Or what if he was someone Keiji met before and didn't want to see again? Worse, what if he was a scammer of sorts?

And he'd be coming to Keiji's doorstep? That sounded kinda...scary. Will he be dressed in the proper protective gear? The virus was still technically in the air after all...

Then the comments reached 50, and, well, Keiji really wanted to eat so he stopped thinking, and placed an order for one of each. Keiji waited for what came next, and when the comments were closed, he was sent a message by Onigiri Miya thanking him for his order and clarified if he was ordering from the Galaxy Apartment Building. After he said yes, the person—or was it page? it seemed very automated—asked for his contact details and confirmed his orders. Still apprehensive, Keiji momentarily removed his profile picture and other public info from his profile before he gave his unit number and his cellphone number. The...page thanked him for his order and that was that.

Keiji went to sleep a bit anxious that night, unable to cease thinking about the possible risks of what he was doing, and Yukie-san, if something happens to me, it's on you.

The next day, Keiji did his best to work like normal; he woke up at seven, had breakfast and did some light at-home exercise (thank you treadmill), freshened up, and got to work. In his concentration on his task at hand (which was proofing his coworkers' works), he momentarily shut out the world around him. So he was jolted in shock when a sharp knock resounded in his unit, followed by, "Onigiri Miya for Akaashi-san? Onigiri Miya for Akaashi-san?"

Nervousness flooded Keiji's veins. Oh no. That's right, the food was coming today. He checked his clock—12:34. It was lunchtime.

Okay, okay, calm down Keiji. Seems like it's legit after all. The guy did come over at lunch. And he's calling out your name, so it's probably okay.

He checks his phone—yep, there was a message from the Onigiri Miya guy saying he was coming over in 30. That was at 12. Okay, seems legit.

Keiji took a deep breath, then exhaled. Then did it another three times. He tapped his cheeks and rubbed his eyes; okay, okay, this is fine.

He stood up, stretched, and reached for a face a mask. The knocking resumed and so did the call for his name, distracting him from his task. He hurriedly made his way to the door, unlatched all his locks, and opened it ajar. "Y-yes?"

The man from Onigiri Miya had his hand raised and poised to knock again; he was wearing a face shield, a face mask that was pulled down a bit to probably better modulate his voice, and a black long-sleeved shirt with the logo of the Facebook page that messaged Keiji. The man had light grey eyes and hair black like Keiji's but less wavy, with most of his hair parted to the left.

His mouth was open either in shock or in position to yell out Keiji's name again, and Keiji was honest-to-god staring because whoa, he's _cute_ , and holy shit, he smelled _really_ good. Shit, was that rice? Freshly cooked rice? As a _smell_? Holy shit.

Mister Onigiri Miya also seemed to be staring as his mouth remained open, but he was the first to shake out of whatever stupor he had as he pulled his face mask back up. He cleared his throat. "A-are you Akaashi Keiji-san?"

"I—Yes," Keiji said and nodded. He realized his mouth was talking comfortably, which meant—he placed his hand on his mouth, shit, he forgot his face mask. "Can you stay there? I'll just get my face mask—"

"Ah, no need!" The other said. Keiji stopped in place as the other cleared his throat again and handed him a bag. "Here's 'ya order! One of each."

"I, well, thank you," Keiji replied softly, taking the bag and hiding a little behind the door as to not expose his mouth too much. "What about payment? You didn't give me instructions on that."

The other man chuckled, though it was muffled by the mask and face shield. "'Yer a new customer, so I wanted 'cha to try it first and then pay, instead of paying upfront," he said, "'Ya can just send me the payment for it online when 'yer done with it, then a review too if not much of a hassle."

With the way Keiji could smell the guy and the food, it wouldn't be a hassle _at all_.

But Keiji didn't say that. Instead, Keiji gave a nod and a small smile of his own. "Thank you very much, I'll be sure to do so, mister Onigiri Miya-san," he said, but he pressed closer to the door as he shuffled his feet, making his Miya-san come off muffled, like a _Myaa-sam_.

"My name is Miya Osamu. I have a sibling though, so feel free to call me Osamu instead," Miya—Osamu said, probably smiling under his mask as his eyes crinkled a bit at the edges. "Thank 'ya for ordering, Akaashi-san, I hope 'ya enjoy."

From behind his door, Keiji gave a nod in response. "Ah, yes, thank you too."

Osamu gave a short bow of his own and stared at Keiji for a bit longer before raising his hand in a wave and walking off. Keiji watched him turn the corner and once he was out of sight, he closed the door. He sighed and slumped on the door, his back sliding to the floor as he set the bag of food down.

Lord, he was _attractive_ —wide-set shoulders, somewhat droopy eyes that crinkled a bit when he smiled (or what Keiji assumed to be a smile), and just...smelling so good. So attractive.

Oh god. Yukie-san, _thank you_.

Keiji wondered if he looked weird; Osamu did stare at him for a while. He looked down at himself. Was it the lack of a mask? Shit, probably. Or was it his favorite setter dog shirt? Or was it the printed volleyball shorts? Hm, maybe he should get Bokuto-san's help in buying clothes, maybe Osamu thought his fashion was weird—

Wait, wait, wait stop right there. Keiji shouldn't be thinking about a next time when he hasn't even eaten the food yet. Which was a mistake, because he's so _hungry_.

He stands up and makes his way to his kitchen; he grabs a damp towel to clean the outside of the bag and the tupperware the food came in, getting off any possible dirt or germs that it might have collected. When he was done, he turned to wash his hands and his face, dried off, and brought the food to the table.

Keiji took a deep breath, opened the tupperware, and—

 _Beauty_.

His first thought was oh god it smells so good, and he could still see some light steam coming off the onigiri—freshly cooked. They were bigger than he thought, and from what he could see, had more filling that he thought too. His second thought was Osamu _really_ needed a better photographer because if he could capture his onigiri the way they looked right now, he would have an even bigger and better following.

Keiji reached for his phone and took a photo of his own, angling it the way he thought would better show their beauty because holy fucking shit they were gorgeous.

Once he was done, he set down his phone, gave his thanks, and reached out to pick one. The first one he went for was the spicy cucumber one—he would want to pick out the plain one, but his minimal background check after ordering told him this was the best seller right now, so might as well give it a try.

He brought it up to his mouth and nose and gave it a sniff. Smells good, great. It was also just the right temperature, though it was getting a bit cold after Keiji spent some time taking photos. He took a deep breath, and brought it closer to his now-open mouth, and then—

Heaven. Bliss. _Peace_.

His skin is clear, his eyesight is better, and he can feel his eyebags losing weight on his face.

Keiji was tearing up. He wasn't one to curse, and Bokuto-san would probably burst a nerve at him right now, but holy _fucking_ shit, this was really _fucking_ good. And maybe he was tearing up also because of how long it's been since he's had this kind of homecooked meal—the kind that was warm and filled with something his own cooking lacked—but it really was so fucking _good_.

He swallowed his first bite and savored the tang and heat of the spicy cucumber flavor, welcoming the feeling with open arms and a happy stomach.

The next bites were slow but big, and Keiji took his time savoring each one, feeling at peace and at home and at his peak each time he swallowed. Once he was done with it, he downed a glass of water and sighed.

Then he reached out for the tuna mayo, and again, Keiji was seeing stars behind his eyes and was feeling a warmth he couldn't explain. The same went for the plain one, which was weird because it was _plain_ , but it still tasted and felt so _good_. It still felt like stars were forming and exploding in his mouth all the way to his belly and his toes. And maybe he was just overreacting the same way he tended to wax poetic about his favorite characters when he wasn't sober, or maybe it really just has been too long since he's had food this good, but it really was just that fucking great.

It took him 30 minutes to finish onigiri, which was pretty damn slow in his experience, but he was fulfilled, content, and lowkey regretting he didn't order the maximum six per person. He leaned back on his chair, letting the food settle in his stomach.

He reached out for his phone and immediately went to his conversation with Onigiri Miya. He sent the photo he took and typed out his comments (both on the food and the photo, because really, what a waste...he wanted to comment on the caption he did as well but the photo, the photo), then he saw that Osamu recently sent his bank account, so he sent his payment there right after as well.

After getting everything out of his system, Keiji stretched his back and moved to the sink to wash the tupperware and his glass. He made his way back to his working station and sat down, feeling energized and ready to face his coworkers' incorrect tenses and failure to stick to their style manuals.

Before he started, however, he opened Facebook on his laptop's browser and visited his apartment's community group. He checked his notification settings—highlights only. Keiji smiled and turned it to all posts, saved his settings, then closed the tab. He pulled his phone closer to him and turned on his sound for Facebook notifications.

For sure, after those three balls of glory and happiness, Keiji won't miss the next Onigiri Miya post. He refuses to; he'll do anything to get a taste of those again.

Akaashi Keiji likes— _loves_ food.

Seeing the cute chef— _Osamu_ , his brain whispered happily, _his name is Osamu_ —was just a bonus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some headcanons/facts abt this world that i wont rly get into in the story:  
> \- akaashi works as udai's editor same as canon but he also helps edit for other authors + he writes stuff for the company like press releases, blog posts, contracts, etc so on some days hes proofing/editing for people and on some days hes doing writing jobs (on worse days, its both, save him)  
> \- akaashi lives in a 1LDK/1 bedroom apartment and he's lived alone there the whole time since he moved there. never had any roommates, he pays for everything himself  
> \- akaashi is a foodie but he cannot describe things for his life so he just thinks in italics about food  
> \- its canon that akaashi has weird shirts so i hc that when hes out he wears all clean minimalist clothes but at home hes a mess of patterns and design


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which quarantine introduces Osamu to online selling, his lack of photography skills, and possibly his favorite customer of all time. Featuring Suna (the bestest friend to ever best friend) and Atsumu (in spirit).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i no longer know how long this fic will be so for now im increasing the max chaps by 1 until i feel like its done lmao this fic is so indulgent its literally writing itself whenever it wants to so uh please dont expect set updates or anything waaasfaskfa (ive been inspired lately during work bcs,,,the recent hq stuff,,,sobs) this is also my destressing fic its just so fun to write hehe wee so yes 
> 
> edited but i might check later on for consistency with chapter 1 so might edit, might not idk yet (haha happy 2am!!!) 
> 
> _edit 11/5 (11am): changed months for consistency in both chapters (osaaka meets 4 months into quarantine); added some clarifications on one scene but nothing too big_
> 
> ALSO ITS OSAAKA DAY WHERE IM AT (11/5) SO JUST IN TIME WAAA HAPPY OSAAKA DAY!!! <33!!!!
> 
> i hope yall enjoy this!

Osamu was happy.

Well, kinda.

He was living a good life if he said so himself; he was living alone (okay that was kinda sad, he did miss his parents, after all, every now and then), he had the restaurant of his dreams, he was watching his brother soar to new heights, and he was doing what he loved while mostly keeping people happy (because some people could just never be satisfied). It was a good life—

Then, quarantine hit.

Well, Osamu was glad for quarantine in the sense that it kept people to their homes; when the virus was _this_ bad, it really was better to just stay the hell home. He also kinda liked staying indoors and as much as he liked his fame, he was still kinda introverted compared to Atsumu. So, yeah, quarantine. Kinda good, kinda bad—had its pros and cons, but either way, Osamu had no choice but to comply and shut down shop for a while. Luckily he had enough savings that he could afford everything he needed for a few months, and as head chef of his own restaurant, he had all the ingredients he needed.

So he spent the first month kinda living a chill life; stay home, cook, play some games, watch some movies and series, catch up on stuff he's left behind due to work. Basically hermit in on himself and only checking up really on his employees and replying only when he's checked up on.

Around two months into quarantine and Osamu realized that without his accountant, he was a shitty businessman that did _not_ know how to budget to save his life. Not to say he was going to sleep on the streets anytime soon, but with the way quarantine was going, he needed all the extra savings he could get for any more eventualities. He also realized that over time, he actually started missing his customers and the idea of making food for more people besides himself (and occasionally, his family to who he sends food). After hours of spending time on random websites for hobbies to pick up during quarantine, Osamu came to two conclusions:

One, without his accountant _and_ his assistant, Osamu was just another Atsumu— _dumb_. Because how the fuck did he not think of...of _this_?

'This' being his second realization: why hasn't he thought of selling food to his neighbors?

It's literally one of the oldest strategies in marketing, and yet he, a chef who did take marketing units by requirement, completely forgot about it. His mother would have his head if she found out since she was the marketer in the family. He also spends an ungodly amount of time on social media now thanks to recipes and animal videos, and he's part of the Galaxy Apartment Building Community group, so he's also seen all the people selling food or ingredients on some days. He's even joined in some trades a few times just so he could avoid going out; it was a fair deal—he was more than willing to exchange his extra garlic, onions, and eggplants for that red wine three floors down. It was good wine too.

So really...how the fuck did he not think of this?

(Atsumu must never know.)

After berating himself for a day or three, Osamu got to work. He went through his menu and wondered what he could make and for how much should he price them, containers and all—cooking from home was no more different than cooking back at his shop, but with the way things were, his limited ingredients, and his smaller work space, some adjustments had to be made. He settled on selling only onigiri, choosing not to sell any of his rice bowls because there were already a lot of those being sold on the group; Osamu may be useless without his business staff, but he at least knew he had to stand out somehow if he wanted to make ends meet alone.

Armed with his onigiri offerings, Osamu now had to take on the task of his assistant—marketing on social media.

For all the time Osamu spends online (gaming, watching stuff, or otherwise), he wasn't very good at...putting himself out there in any sense of the word. He could tweet and comment and all, but when it came to like, marketing _himself_ , advertising with the _intent_ to _sell_...well, he had an assistant for that reason.

Well, life gave him lemons, so he has to make lemonade however possible. Aesthetics, advertising theories, and marketing 4P's* be damned.

Osamu took some pictures and tried his best to copy the angles and styles he's seen food bloggers and vloggers do, and save for the perpetual shakiness to his photos because _how do you stabilize_ , it was good. He picked out the one that looked the least shaky and had the least unnecessary shadows, wrote a short caption ("tuna mayo onigiri for sale, can deliver for dinner today, pm for more details"), and then—post.

He didn't get any comments until two hours later, but Osamu wasn't complaining—any sale was good sale. He got around six orders and got to work when three hours passed and nobody else commented. Following the same protocol that other people did—ask for contact details and give bank account for payment—he fulfilled his promise and delivered right before dinner time. Just gave the food, gave thanks, and asked them to leave a review later on.

Later, when he saw the reviews, he felt the same pride he gets when serving customers and making them happy. He also realized that he should've mentioned he was from Onigiri Miya, because the moment one of his customers dropped that fact (after noticing his shirt), Osamu got a whole _lot_ of messages asking when his next orders would open.

Osamu, again, felt like Atsumu—dumb, because why the _fuck_ didn't he think of mentioning that fact?

Gradually though, Osamu got better at this whole solo-online-selling thing. He decided to set up a page for Onigiri Miya and open deliveries to his area, and he also used the said page to sell on this apartment community's group. Life was good. He was earning somehow, and he was making people happy. It wasn't quite the same, not seeing the reactions in real-time, but Osamu wasn't complaining nonetheless—either way, he was getting to know his customers, and that was great.

Four months into quarantine and he gets an order from someone new. Though it's been a few weeks since someone new commented, Osamu thought nothing of it; he only gave him the standard treatment he gave new customers and went on with his life. When he checked his profile, he saw no profile picture; there was only his name, and some common friends—oh, that was Bokkun there—which in Osamu's book, was enough to prove this guy wasn't some sort of scammer or joy reserver.

Then he _met him_.

Osamu, for the third time this whole quarantine, felt like Atsumu, but probably even worse because _oh god,_ his mask was down, and he just stared and the Akaashi Keiji guy was probably in shock at the improper way he was wearing his mask. Osamu wasn't too mad about Akaashi not having a mask, since he was pretty well prepared anyway, but really he didn't want to tell him "hey don't cover up haha you look great as is also your shirt and pants are great holy shit you are so pretty."

Messy, wavy hair; black-rimmed rectangular glasses that were slightly rounded at the edges; and the _eyes_ —were they blue, or were they green? God. And Osamu didn't want to romanticize any loss of sleep since that guy looked so damn tired, but _damn_ , even if he probably had like less than three hours of sleep, the man was gorgeous as is. The shirt and the shorts he wore were a bonus especially when Osamu owned the same shorts (and Atsumu owned the shirt, but this wasn't about him right now).

Somehow, Osamu made it alive through that interaction, even managing a smile and a wave and an "Osamu is fine" out before going back to deliver everything else. He held in his screaming until he got home, and he hoped that his neighbors weren't having their afternoon nap because Osamu _really_ let loose.

Then the really pretty Akaashi guy sent probably the most poetic review later on through his (well, his page's) direct messages along with probably the best picture he's seen of his onigiri this whole quarantine, his own and other reviewers' included. Osamu tried not to cry because this man was _perfect_. He really hoped he ordered again.

To end the day on a great note, he opened his chat with his best friend, Suna, and spent around twenty minutes on a call with him gushing about the most perfect man Osamu has ever had the pleasure of making food for. Osamu sent a screenshot of the review:

> _I am typing this right after eating, and so I apologize for the length and style as I simply had to let this out._
> 
> _I am relatively new to this community thing on Facebook, as well as the concept of ordering from neighbors. Thus, I am glad that my first experience was with you, Osamu-san. Your food filled me with a warm feeling I haven't felt in a while, especially during this quarantine. I wouldn't say I'm a food connoisseur, as I lack the proper background to certify myself as such, but I know good and healthy food when I see, smell, and taste it; all of which I found in your dishes. This quarantine saw me purchasing relatively unhealthy food for some time, so it makes me very happy to know someone who makes the food I like to live so near._
> 
> _I understand now how you have amassed a loyal following within our community and I am proud to say I am now part of the said following. I am looking forward to what you could create next; food creation is an art, and you, sir, are an artist of the highest caliber, bringing out flavor and beauty in something so simple as an onigiri. Especially so with that spicy cucumber; no wonder it's a favorite. I do wish however that you had a better photography team of sorts with you, as your photos clearly did not do your food justice._
> 
> _Consider me a fan. Thank you once again._

If he ever ordered again, Osamu was going to give the man extra—not just because he was pretty but because damn, Osamu _teared up_ at his review and his photography skills, what the _fuck_.

Suna could only listen; bless Sunarin. He also offered a prayer along with Osamu, and after seeing the screenshot Osamu sent him, agreed that Osamu really sucked at taking photos. Osamu chose not to retain that comment.

Then the prayer was answered just four days later when Osamu posted again after taking a break to restock and—first commenter, Akaashi Keiji.

God was real and he was in Suna Rintarou and his insanely flexible core and his insanely lucky good luck and prayers.

Osamu opened up his chat with Suna again, ready to rant just in case.

For the day, Osamu posted the same offerings as last time, but this time introduced a tamago onigiri. Akaashi ordered two of each and one of the tamago one; Osamu decided to throw in an extra tamago onigiri. As a treat. Gotta keep the guy healthy. And Osamu liked cooking, and this brought in business, it's win-win.

It took him more time than usual to go through all the cooking, but eventually, he was ready for deliveries. He saved Akaashi for last this time, which would make his trip a bit more hassle since Akaashi should be one of the first based on distance, but, technicalities.

Regardless, he followed his normal route; Osamu did his deliveries from the ground up. First, he sent out whatever needed to be delivered to the shop's partner couriers; when he's done, he starts delivering from the lowest floor going up, so that he ends up going straight to his unit on the 25th floor—two floors below the top of the building. Today, his deliveries started on the third floor and ended up on the twentieth.

Akaashi lived on the twelfth, which would make Osamu go up and down, but, it was _so_ worth the extra sweat from taking the stairs as his form of exercise when he saw Akaashi again, this time with a mask on and less outlandish clothes—but Osamu was still very much digging the little rolling owls on the bespectacled man's shirt and his pastel pink and yellow polka-dotted sweats. He did his best not to stare this time, but _god_ , the mask covering his face did nothing to shield Osamu from his beauty, and the sweats just made him so _soft_.

This time, Akaashi checked the food right in front of Osamu. He blinked. "I ordered seven, why are there eight pieces?"

"Ah, well, I like 'ya so—" Osamu froze. Akaashi froze. Osamu choked on air then coughed to compose himself. "I like...liked 'yer comment a lot, and I wanted to thank 'ya so I made 'cha an extra. I hope 'ya like it."

Akaashi, honest to god and right in front of Osamu's already rapidly beating heart, blushed and Osamu had to fight himself to feel _manly_ again at the sight. The bespectacled man looked away shyly, and with the bag resting on his wrist, he twiddled—fucking twiddled—his fingers. "Thank you very much. I'm glad you...liked my rambling."

"No, no, it wasn't rambling to me!" Osamu was quick to reassure, "I really liked 'yer review. Really appreciated' em. Please do send some more if 'ya feel like it!"

From above his mask, Akaashi's eyes curved a little and Osamu wanted to _cry_ —this pretty ass man was smiling, no doubt, and even with a mask, Osamu was so _affected_ what the _fuck_. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you as well, Mi—I mean, Osamu-san."

Osamu chuckled, willing his heartbeat to slow the fuck down. "No problem. Remember to clean the outside just in case and to wash your hands before and after eating! I do my best to keep it clean but better safe than sorry."

Akaashi nodded. "I did the same last time," he said, "Thank you for the heads up." He blinked. "Ah, just something I noticed, but do you really not open orders daily?"

 _'I would if you wanted me to,'_ Osamu wanted to say, but even he knew that was impossible.

He shook his head. "Can't. Gotta take days off to rest and restock," Then with a grin he knew wasn't seen, he said, "'Ya saw my customers. I make a lot for a single day or two, so I gotta take breaks." Which was a sad truth but also something that, if he looked at it from a different angle, meant he was doing good after all. Pretty customer or none, it _was_ a necessity to take days off for this reason. 

"That's true," Akaashi nodded, "I did just order seven after all."

"Which, thanks, by the way," Osamu chuckled.

Akaashi gave a muffled chuckle back. "Thank you as well."

After he said that, silence settled between them. Nobody tried to, well, move, and Osamu wondered if there's something on him or what because for all of Akaashi's pretty eyes, the man can _stare_ , like, anime _blank_ stare. It would've been kinda cute, but right now it was lowkey unnerving, as Osamu had only really been stared at like this by Kita-san.

Osamu knew he should be leaving by now, and he can't really say that he still had orders to deliver when Akaashi can (most likely) see the flattening empty bags in his arms. Osamu coughed; so he'll break it first, huh?

"Well, I'll, uh, go now," he laughed sheepishly, "Enjoy the food and lemme know how it goes!"

Akaashi's eyes crinkled again, _jesus fuck_. "I will, safe travel."

There was nothing to travel, and Akaashi seemed to notice that slip-up when his eyebrows shot up in embarrassment. Osamu would very much like to travel around the building now just for that to make sense.

Because Osamu is every bit Atsumu's twin, he replies, "Thanks, you too!" And only really realized _what_ he said when he was about to open the fire exit stairs—because what the _fuck_ was _that_.

That night, before brainstorming for his next offers, he spent a good hour talking to Suna about his day and spent a good ten or twenty-something minutes listening to his best friend call him an idiot in a lot of roundabout ways.

Then Akaashi sent him his review and he closed his message bubble with Suna to read—

> _Amazing again, Osamu-san. The tamago onigiri was a little too bland for me, but I personally prefer things saltier than others; adding a little salt myself completely changed the game and had me, again, feeling warm and cozy the way homemade food tends to make me feel. Amazing to see something relatively plain to be just an amazing work of art. Nothing less from you._

It was shorter this time, but it made sense—Akaashi _did_ eat the same thing a few days ago, so why repeat reviews? It also felt a lot more direct and less flowery, which Osamu thinks is probably his pretty customer's real personality, since he did mention that he was basically ranting last time. Either way, Osamu was melting internally at the kind words. (And if he were half as direct or blunt as Kita-san, Osamu thinks he'd melt because, in high school, _that_ was what got him briefly crushing on his now-supplier before he fell out of it). He'll make sure to add more salt for Akaashi's orders; he could already see how to incorporate that little fact into his offers.

He was about to reply and take screenshots when suddenly, the three dots of nervousness came out—Akaashi was typing something. In real-time.

Osamu sat up straight. Holy shit.

He watched as the three dots disappeared for a few seconds before coming back, staying for longer, then disappearing again. It seemed like Akaashi was writing a lot or he wasn't sure what to send—regardless, Osamu was feeling adrenaline in his veins as anticipation ate at him.

Then, Akaashi sent the message.

> _I also mean no harm by this, but Osamu-san, you should really get a better photographer. I really feel you would get more interested customers if you had more appetizing shots; it's really a waste._

Osamu flinched. Oh no, he was _direct_. This man was _perfect_.

Though he did get indirectly insulted because hey, Osamu wasn't good with photos okay? But a man needing money's gotta do what he's gotta do. Somewhere in his mind, he hears Suna talking about his "shitty, embarrassing photography skills, how is this even possible in this day and age" that he so kindly ignored.

Suna really was a god at this point, _ugh_.

Another message pops up.

> _Looking forward to your next post. Have a great evening._

And then—

A sticker. One of those moving (animated?) stickers Osamu doesn't use but has seen Kita-san and Suna use in their group chats; sometimes Sakusa too when they talked about Atsumu.

But the one Akaashi sent was a sticker Osamu's never seen before: it was of a fucking _onigiri_ rolling away with a small smile.

Osamu let out a gurgled cry as he slammed his head onto the phone.

Should he actually take up those webinars Suna's talked about? He was so motivated to actually take better pictures now, god. It would take time out of his barely-strung together schedule, but the bespectacled man did have a point. Removing his very biased and pining-like glasses, he could see reason and learn, yeah, he should probably work on that too.

He thinks about how his good photos could increase sales, which in turn meant more money for him and his people (who may not be there with him to cook but have been getting salaries still as well as bonuses when they helped get a customer for him to deliver to). More money meant more budget to spend on other ingredients, and more ingredients meant more offerings and—

More reviews from one Akaashi Keiji. More Akaashi Keiji.

No doubt about it; Osamu was _hella_ happy now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *the 4P's are whats considered essential factors to consider when marketing stuff (product, price, place, promotion). pls do not ask me to explain im not a marketing/business major,,,i just work with marketing stuff sometimes thats it sndgnsd 
> 
> some osamu headcanons/facts abt this universe:  
> \- yes osaaka have common friends but dont know each other; will probably explain how they're connected sometime soon (or not idk)  
> \- dont be fooled, osamu loves atsumu but just not to his face lol he'd diss him and d-word and k-word for him all at once hes his biggest fan but atsumu doesnt need to know that AHAHAH  
> \- based on my chef friends' lives, they did have to take marketing related stuff in culinary schools so i decided to make osamu go through the same thing but like, not retain anything after graduation because thats life  
> \- osamu grew out of his crush on kita after kita graduated. no nothing happened it just went away and no kita doesnt know about it
> 
> hmu on twt/tumblr: @ sagikaashi
> 
> hope yall liked this! thanks for dropping by <33 !! :DD ALSO HAPPY OSAAKA DAY AGAIN FROM MEEE


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keiji has good friends who look out for him and want him to be happy, all while fueling their own desire to see Keiji make a mess of himself. Also, Keiji _really_ needs to be more aware of his notifications and surroundings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY AKAASHI KEIJI!!!!!!!!!!!! LOML ONE OF MY BIGGEST COMFORT CHARACTERS IN THE RECENT YEARS ILYSM UR NOT REAL BUT I LOVE U ANYWAY!!!
> 
> i managed to finish this chapter right in time for his bday and i ended up forsaking the outline i made. i went off the rails and now this chapter is longer than i thought it would be....please dont expect chapters to be this long bcs i was just very invested in the friendship dynamics here so this happened sgjsgssgjs also yes since this is my destress fic from work, i am indeed, very stressed, which also added to why this became so...long asdgjsg
> 
> i also dont rly know how to format things so im sorry sjngjsndjgns i tried my best :')
> 
> ANYWAY random updates as usual!! i dont know when this fic will end or how it'll end so for now i bumped up the max chaps to 5!! im sorry this fic is so self indulgent i also dont know where its going lmao ENJOOYYY <333

Keiji was living a good life right now—well, as good as it could be given the circumstances.

Working from home was _still_ stressful, and if Keiji were being honest, it felt like the lines between work and home were blurring into something unidentifiable. If Keiji could be even _more_ honest, it was like Udai-san's lineart when he was drunk and wanted to play "Guess the Doodle Do" with Keiji—which was to say, very shaky, blurry, and messy.

His work hours were _supposed_ to be 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. but with quarantine imposed, and taking note of how everyone has different circumstances, the option for flexi-time was given: start anytime, just make sure you get eight hours in and submit your stuff on time. It was great at first since on some days Keiji woke up earlier, and on other days Keiji just _couldn't_ get up (or his internet wasn't cooperating with him). This new output-based work style was also really helping people like Udai-san who, as creatives, sometimes had crazy work hours depending on when inspiration struck. (For that reason alone, Keiji was glad his work wasn't so reliant on his creativity like his author-slash-artist was—Keiji overthought enough and lost enough sleep editing and meeting deadlines alone, thanks.)

As quarantine grew longer though and as work from home persisted and became the norm, people started just...blurring the lines. Sending messages at ungodly hours of the day and night. Disrespecting others' break times because others were working. Calls were sent outside the designated communication platform because they wanted to make things faster. Working on holidays and stormy days because it's from home, "there's no excuse to not work when you're at home, right?".

Keiji is about to _lose_ his marbles and throw them at something (the capitalist system that forces people to work to live even in circumstances that call for a break, to be specific, but that's too broad and he's not sure he has that many metaphorical marbles to throw in the first place) but _can't_ , because if _Udai-san_ was keeping up somehow, then Keiji has both his duty as the artist's main editor and friend to keep up as well. So Keiji will keep his marbles. Somehow.

It's okay, he'll survive; Keiji can rant to Bokuto-san at the end of a bad day, and he and Udai-san send him drinks sometimes for an online drinking session whenever they were all free, so it was all good. Sometimes, Kuroo-san and Ma-kun joined in too, which, while Kuroo-san was _still_ a pain in the ass even after high school, was still very fun to be with most days. He also missed Ma-kun a lot, so, yay. Keiji was never the most social person out there, but he did love his friends very much—not that he'd tell them unprompted, however (he'd tell them if the situation called for it; he has many things to say in store...but he won't, if he can help it).

Aside from his friends, Keiji also has probably the best thing to look forward to besides his calls with Bokuto-san—

Onigiri Miya.

Food.

_R i c e._

It's five months going six into quarantine, meaning It's been a month and a half since Keiji's started ordering from Osamu-san, and it's been a _great_ month and a half. Osamu-san _loves_ his reviews apparently, and every time Keiji orders a new thing, Osamu-san always adds in extra. Keiji could fall in love at this point.

Keiji feels like he's eaten everything Osamu-san has to offer in the last month and a half. And honestly, he's amazed at himself at how he can keep reviewing, never feeling really tired of at a loss for words because he _always_ has something to say—something great, and the occasional comment about the man's photos because they were actually _kind of_ improving...? (Kind of. They were still so blurry sometimes and those angles still need some work, but they were _changing_ for the better somehow **and Keiji's inner art hoe was _thriving_.) He also thinks his fashion sense (for home wear) has gotten better since he didn't want to set a weird impression on the other man. Bokuto-san and his sisters were right: it's not about changing what you have, it's about knowing which piece goes with what.

(For some reason though, after showing his friends through a video call his new attempts at styling himself after Bokuto-san's intervention, Udai-san _still_ laughs at him. It's fine, he doesn't trust Udai-san and his affinity for all black clothing so his opinion on the matter doesn't count.)

Every day that Keiji knows he'll be seeing the close-to-perfect man (and eating his godly food), he wakes up a little earlier and a little more chipper. Work doesn't always seem so bad when he thinks about the little boost of energy he'll get from seeing Osamu-san and eating his food. He doesn't really mind staring at his screen for hours after he's written his review for the man, feeling a little bit more inspired from the act of voicing his thoughts alone. Also, getting Osamu-san's onigiri was reminding him to move around more, and not just use the treadmill twice a day.

Really, Onigiri Miya was every little good thing in his life right now—or well, was the catalyst of sorts for it. Osamu-san included. In fact, and he might be pushing too far or could just be thinking too much about it, but Keiji has begun considering Osamu-san as something like...like a _friend_. He's been sending stickers with his reviews after the second one, and after the fifth one, Osamu-san started replying one as well with the same sticker set he used (yes, Keiji kept track; it's logged in his daily journal...things to keep hidden from Udai-san when they go on a call, shhh).

And whenever Osamu-san delivered his food, he's taken to not only including extra onigiri but also...checking up? On Keiji? Keiji wasn't really sure what to call it, but Osamu-san's been asking Keiji if he's eaten before getting his delivery, or if Keiji was getting enough sleep. Sometimes, if Osamu-san seemed to be done with his deliveries, he'd ask a bit more about Keiji's day and there'd be a little conversation between them. Small talk always made Keiji conscious because of his nature to be either too blunt or too plain, but with Osamu-san, it was...nice. Food or no food involved, talking to him was kinda quiet, calming, and just... _peaceful_.

Osamu-san still didn't do daily deliveries, but that was fine; Keiji could see how things were getting busier for the chef (a _real_ chef, Keiji knows now after some researching online after that first meal he had from the man) especially since quarantine didn't look like it was ending anytime soon. The chef opened up orders every two to three days on average, but sometimes he'd have extra stocks or sudden cancellations thus opening more days ( _thank you_ , post notifications). The comments under his posts were increasing as well—if Keiji thought 30 was a big number before, now he was sure it was tiny compared to the now occasional hundred.

Keiji wonders from time to time how the other must be coping with his version of remote work. He wonders if it's been harder or easier on him, having no set schedule but also having to be responsible for his own well-being, sales, and the like.

He gets some sort of an answer when one day Osamu-san has to cap orders, no longer following the "will close at this time and will only accommodate these people" rule. Osamu-san explains it in a post:

> _**Onigiri Miya:** Hi! It's Miya here. After this round of orders, I'll be capping the stuff I do. It's getting harder to keep up and make sure everything is quality so this is for both of us. I'm thinking to open personal orders too, will update y'all. Thanks for understanding!_

People were understandably disappointed, but Keiji was not. Keiji knew the value of things like rest days and setting limits on oneself; just like in volleyball, if he wanted Bokuto-san to work at his best on the day of the game, then he had to both train hard _and_ rest well. Too much hard work, although sometimes good, can indeed sacrifice quality. Though if Keiji had to be honest, nothing Osamu-san would make would suffer in his very _unbiased_ opinion.

Keiji also knew what it was like to work hard and get no rest, and while he didn't know how chefs lived, he didn't want to wish his kind of lifestyle and work-life on anyone. He was tired, stressed, and maybe prone to being too sharp and direct, but he wasn't so mean as to, say, dump Udai-san or his other authors on others at 11 p.m. like they've been dumping work for him to do right before the deadline. He can be petty as Kuroo-san and Ma-kun would say, but he wasn't _mean_ , he thinks*.*

He didn't want to see Osamu-san in any state similar to Keiji's, no thanks. Osamu-san needs to be healthy, both for his sake and his food's sake, and he needs to be okay.

And besides, Keiji could always shoot his shot at personal orders. Professionally. Customer to seller. That's the only shooting his shot he'd like to do, thanks.

Well, that's what he thought until the Onigiri Miya page messaged him first.

During a call. _With his friends_.

Who knew nothing about Osamu-san, only of Onigiri Miya, and "oh yeah, Akaashi lives in the area of Onigiri Miya, makes sense we see a lot of his food on his Instagram stories."

And of course, Keiji just _had_ to be sharing his screen right at that moment, switching from one tab to another while waiting for their stream to load on Keiji's computer because had the best internet (thank you, company-provided internet) and best computer. (Udai-san was not to be trusted with streaming, because his PC was a mess and Kuroo-san _hated_ looking at his desktop—honestly, who even _liked_ Udai-san's desktop setup, it was so _messy._ Bokuto-san is bothered by it. _Bokuto-san._ ).

And of course, because life was fair in how it was unfair, Keiji just _had_ to have a full-body reaction—freezing up, eyes growing wide for a moment as he let out a rough, gurgled out "geh" that lasted for half a second, and, well, it was so _simple_ , but Keiji's closest friends _knew_ that was an expression of shock, especially when Keiji immediately moved to close the tab where the message popped up.

But Keiji forgot he had desktop notifications on so people could still _see_ things even after he closed the tab and Keiji was _sure_ he was turning red even if his face was as blank as he tried to make it out to be.

"Akaashi?" Bokuto-san said, moving closer to his camera, his face taking up a _lot_ of his designated box, "Onigiri Miya sent you a message? Shouldn't you check that?"

"It's for my orders," Keiji replied. "It can wait."

Ma-kun— _Kenma_ , world-famous Kodzuken, _god_ —scoffed. "An order that starts with 'Akaashi-san! I don't know if you saw my post but' dot dot dot...ah, there's more: 'I hope this isn't too forward...'sure...An order you _hide_ from your friends."

Kuroo-san wiggled his eyebrows on screen. "Oya? An order you hide from your friends, huh? You sure that's food you're ordering?"

Keiji choked on the implications. Udai-san cheered. "There's another message notif! Read it to us, Akaashi!"

"No," Keiji immediately responded, "That's private. It's called _private_ messaging for a reason."

"But it's just orders?" Bokuto-san tilted his head. Sweet, summer child Bokuto-san who ended up saying the one thing Keiji knew would cause a commotion: "If it's just an order, can't we seeeeee." Then, in true Bokuto-san fashion, he added, "I wanna see what Onigiri Miya has for quarantine!"

It was innocent enough, but Kuroo-san, Ma-kun, and Udai-san latched onto Bokuto-san's second statement and aimed for Keiji's fucking _jugular_.

"Koutarou is right, Keiji," Ma-kun drawled, his normally lazy expression turning into something teasing and predatory, which looked both out of place and at home on his youthful—but tired—face. "I wanna see what Onigiri Miya has to offer too," he purred.

"You heard your star, Akaashi!" Kuroo-san cackled, going as far as to comment on Keiji's nickname for his best friend. That _nasty_ cat. "Show it! Show it! Show it!"

"Don't be a killjoy, Akaashi!" Udai-san cheered again, a mischievous grin in place. "There's _nothing_ to hide, right?"

And Keiji _knew_ it was a trap—using his nickname for Bokuto-san like that and Udai-san egging him on because while Keiji has left the volleyball scene professionally, he was _still_ someone who _hated_ to lose and someone who wanted to prove people wrong and _maybe_ look impassive about it (nothing really did beat setting to Bokuto-san except doing a dump attack and looking down at everyone, especially after a good overthinking session at the speed of light).

So Keiji took a deep breath, said nothing, and opened his messages. He ignored the "ooooohhhh" and other sound effects from the peanut gallery and went on to read the messages:

> **Onigiri Miya:** Akaashi-san! I don't know if you saw my post but I'm changing my ordering system for now and moving to cap orders. There's been a lot of demand lately for the food and since I'm alone, it's gotten pretty heavy haha
> 
> **Onigiri Miya:** I hope this isn't too forward but if ever you'd like to order regardless, I'm open for personal orders. I appreciate all the reviews you've done for me, and since you're one of my favorite customers, I thought I'd extend this offer to you personally.
> 
> **Onigiri Miya:** Sorry is this weird

Udai-san, who's taken to reading the messages aloud to save Ma-kun's straining eyesight from reading the small text, came to a stop. The call went silent, save for Bokuto-san's sisters' and their dogs and Kuroo-san and Ma-kun's cats scratching their scratching post behind the couple.

Keiji wasn't sure what face he was making right now—he could only hope his face was straight, and that the warmth in his cheeks did not have a tint to them.

Small mercies, apparently, were real. Kuroo-san spoke first: "Akaashi's face is really blank right now," he blinked, lagging a bit, "Even after he just got something that's basically a 'hit me up' but like, in food terms. The adulter version of 'lets get some coffee' in a not-so-businessy or friendly way."

Ma-kun made a face. "That did _not_ make sense at all, Tetsu."

"No, he does. Make sense I mean," Udai-san interjected. He looked genuinely worried on screen, the droop of his mouth visible even with the low quality of his camera. "Hey, is this guy bothering you, Akaashi?"

"Bothering Akaashi?" Bokuto-san blinked. "He's just asking if Akaashi wants food though?"

Udai-san bit his lip, and the crease between his eyebrows deepened. "I've heard of these stories where online sellers get on their customers' cases, stalking them, forcing them into dates and all and offering discounts and shit because they're cute," he said, "Is that why you changed your picture lately and cleared out some stuff?"

Wait. What?

Ma-kun's eyes narrowed, catching up to what Udai-san was implying. "Do you need any help, Keiji? I can afford not to stream tonight to help if you need."

No, really, _what_? This—this was _not_ the reaction Keiji expected. Where was the small mercy he just thought of earlier? _Huh_?

Bokuto-san's eyes grew dark; gone was the happy-go-lucky, somewhat airheaded man, and here was the ace, the _captain_ that could lead his men and make others _fall_. "Akaashi," he began, "Is he bothering you? Tell me now if he is, I know his brother."

"Wait, what?" Keiji's confusion broke at that. "You _what_?" Bokuto-san _what_?

His former captain didn't deign him with an answer, golden eyes still focused and searching on his camera, trying to get through to Keiji. " _Akaashi_."

Kuroo-san butted in. "Okay guys, let's let our editor-san rest, yeah? Let him talk."

"Tetsu, _how_ are you calm right now?" Ma-kun asked, voice flat as usual but taking a slightly higher tone of incredulity. "I'd think you would be the first to talk about internet safety and all, like you do with me."

"Yes, but I don't think Akaashi would be as careless as Bokuto here—" Bokuto-san gasped. "—And he's no internet sensation like you are." He turned back to where Keiji assumed his camera preview was on Kuroo-san's screen. "And if you _did_ change your online stuff and all and put it all back, I think it's safe to say you're goods now right?"

"I—"

"Even though!" Udai-san interjected. "Even if Akaashi's being as safe as he can be, this Onigiri Miya guy could be stalking him! They're messaging and Akaashi's put his stuff back on somewhat public! Hell, who even messages like _that_?!"

Kuroo-san changed his focus. "A lot, Ukkun. It's a thing online sellers do now. Trying to get customers and all during quarantine, build emotional connection kinda thing."

"Spoken like a true communications major."

" _Kyanma_ , shut up."

"Still," Ma-kun continued, "This _does_ feel fishy, Keiji. It honestly feels like flirting but like, business-like."

"Well then," Bokuto exclaimed. "This is hurting my head! Let's just let Akaashi speak then!" He grinned, looking as if he just gave the best and simplest solution to the forming tension in their video call. Which he kinda did.

Kuroo-san pouted. "That's what I said but _someone_ there—"

"Yes, yes, Kuroo-san, I get it, I'll shut up now."

"Heh. Thank you, Ukkun."

Bokuto-san made a cupping motion with his hands and put them around his mouth. He moved closer to his mic and instinctively, they all pulled away from their speakers as Bokuto-san shouted, " _Okay_ , Akaashi time!"

Keiji coughed and cringed at the same time, feeling his ears vibrate from the sheer boom of Bokuto-san's voice while his cheeks warmed up—can Bokuto-san please stop calling every moment he has a chance to speak alone Akaashi time? It was so _embarrassing_.

Well, better here than in public. Like a restaurant. _Again_.

Small mercies, Keiji, small mercies.

Keiji sighed-coughed. "Okay. So." He began, "Miya Osamu-san is my neighbor. He lives up a few floors from me in my tower and he's one of the online sellers that popped up during quarantine. No, he is _not_ anyone suspicious. And _if_ he was, I too know where he lives, so we're even."

"But what if he has a secret hideout—"

"Kenma, not now. Ukkun, I see your mouth lagging and moving, _no_."

On screen, Ma-kun blinked. He addressed Kuroo-san beside him, "You know, I'm more surprised you're not blowing a fuse right now or something."

"Who, me?"

"Mhm."

"Well, _why_ are you blowing up? I thought you'd be the calm one here!"

With the straightest face he could muster, Ma-kun replied, "Because it's Keiji." Like that was all the explanation he needed.

"And?"

"Fellow quiet person Keiji. Bad at internet Keiji."

"Okay Ma-kun, that's enough, thanks, we understand."

"Keiji who was about to donate half a month's salary to a scammer who looked convincing who tagged him on Facebook at random. Keiji who was about to respond to someone on Twitter who messaged him pretending he was Keiji's cousin—"

"Okay, Ma-kun, _thank you_." Keiji stressed out, sighing. He could've done without the digging up of his early days on the internet, gosh.

Kuroo-san chuckled. "Okay, we get it. But to answer your question, I just. I don't know." He shrugged. "I didn't get any bad vibes, and you know my gut, it's always right."

"So _not_ true," Ma-kun raised a brow. "There are times it's fucked up, like—"

"Okay, _usually_ right. Enough times to be trustworthy, yes?"

"..."

"I agree!" Bokuto piped up. "Kuroo's gut instincts are really good, so if they said this Osamu dude is a nice guy, then I'll believe i!"

Udai joined back in. "You should've told us earlier, you know."

Kuroo-san whined. "I've been _trying_!"

"I don't believe you fully just yet, Tetsu," Ma-kun kept his pout. "But I know a losing game when I see it. I'm outnumbered here."

"Exactly!" Kuroo-san cackled. "So! Back to you, 'Kaashi!"

Keiji straightened up, tuning back in to the conversation at hand and trying his best to ignore the spike of anxiety. "As I was saying," he began, "Osamu-san is my neighbor. I buy food from him. He gets my money. The end."

"So there's no, like, relationship or anything beyond business?"

"No, Udai-san."

"None at all? You're just a favorite customer or something then?"

The word "favorite" was making Keiji feel a bit giddy, and he hoped to god it wasn't showing on his face right now. "Maybe."

"Or maybe," Kuroo-san leered. "Onigiri Miya guy is Akaashi's favorite seller."

Udai's eyes sparkled on the screen. "Oho?"

Keiji could not push down that blush fast enough and hard enough. Ma-kun's eyes took a more cat-like appearance as if focusing on something—which, for sure, was Keiji himself—and observing it in interest. The leer on Kuroo-san's face was downright punch-worthy, and if it were done in person, Keiji was sure he would've spilled _something_ on purpose on the marketing and PR specialist already.

Bokuto-san stared for a while with wide eyes before he screamed-gasped.

"Holy shit, 'Kaashi has a crush!"

Kill him now, please. Keiji...Keiji wants out.

* * *

They spend the next three hours bouncing back and forth between topics but eventually centering on the topic of "Get Akaashi Keiji the Meal of His Dreams."

("What does that even _mean_?" Udai-san asked, genuinely confused. "You mean like, food? Are we sponsoring his meals now? 'Cause if we are, some of that better be going to me."

"No, Ukkun!" Bokuto-san scoffed. "The meal is the man. Same thing!"

Keiji deadass fucking _choked_ on air. )

It was a long, embarrassing, and stressful conversation for Keiji, but he has to admit he felt a lot better now having it out in the open like this. Having Ma-kun as a friend meant he'd be dissected mentally and emotionally, but having Kuroo-san as a friend (???) meant that whatever Ma-kun dissected will be seen by all and Kuroo-san will make use of his big sciencey-marketing brain to make something out of it that Ma-kun hasn't thought of yet. Meaning they got Keiji to think _and_ talk about things he tried not to think about, if at all.

Having _Udai-san_ as a friend meant that he had someone with an imaginative mind ready to conjure what-if scenarios for Keiji to think about, which worked _wonders_ with Ma-kun and Kuroo-san's tag team. Which just basically means Keiji went through _a lot_ for what was only three hours.

Keiji talked about—with as little words as possible lest he gets all prose-y again—Osamu in great detail. He talked about their first and second meetings, which were the meetings he was most visibly stressed out the most, before telling them of their other interactions, which gradually grew more casual and conversational through time.

("I can't believe you told him 'safe travels.' Akaashi, you're a fucking _editor_ who wanted to work in the literature department. Aren't you a literature major with minors in journalism? Or was it media studies or something? Either way, _what_ the _fuck_ , my dude."

"Udai-san, _please_ , I don't want to hear about such a comment when you, an artist, still gets confused drawing left and right perspectives."

"Oh, shit. Ukkun, _burn_."

"I'm _trying_?! This isn't about _me_!"

"Then let me finish."

"Fucking _burn_."

"Kenma, Kuroo, please. It's Akaashi time! Go on, 'Kaashi.")

He left out the parts about his body looking indeed like meal and focused instead on how he smelled really, really _nice_ , which, in hindsight was probably worse and he should've stuck to describing his reverse triangular body instead.

("So he's a literal snack! Like, a reverse onigiri!"

And to Keiji's pure shame and lack of proper braincells because _nothing_ was going his way anymore, he responded, "No, Bokuto-san. He's more than a snack."

"Like....a meal then?"

"..."

"Bokkun, I think you broke him."

"He isn't denying it though!")

From there, things just got a bit more humiliating for Keiji because the moment he ran out of things he'd like to tell, the Dissection Trio teamed up on him some more to get him thinking and _feeling_. He did not want to think about Osamu's arms exploding into three other arms each to make him onigiri, no thanks; it won't affect how he viewed his attractiveness, he was direct about it, but Keiji will _not_ entertain the idea of being with a man with more than enough human arms. (But he has to say, it was nice thinking about what a future with Osamu could be like, either with three cats or seven dogs.)

But yes. Now it was out there—Akaashi Keiji had a crush. Had a stupidly rom-com worthy meet-cute with a neighbor who is now his crush. Who messaged him for personal orders.

Towards the middle of the fourth hour, Ma-kun decided to be the bigger man and ask: "So, what now?"

The conversation ceased, and the topic of what kind of rice is rice enough was left hanging in the air. "What do you mean?" Keiji asked because he was quite liking the rice discussion.

"Like, are you planning to do anything now?"

Keiji, under the table, fiddled his fingers as the original topic came back. "I'll order some more, nothing will change."

"So you _don't_ want to get with mister reverse onigiri body?" Udai-san asked, using the descriptor Ma-kun used for him after he searched him up that Bokuto-san found fitting.

"I don't," Keiji said slowly, not really sure if he was believing himself or not. "I'm busy, you know this." This time, he knew that was pure truth. "I also don't want what some of the teens now call a _quaranfling_ if it gets to that, so no, no thanks."

"Then make it last?" Bokuto-san tilted his head. "Myaa-sam is a nice guy. He's the twin of Miya Atsumu, he's a setter on my team, and he comes by every now and then before to give us food. He's really nice! And I think he'd like you."

Before Keiji can catch up on the fact Osamu was someone he could possibly have a connection with (and how he's accidentally said "Myaa-sam" once—wow, he really did share some of his braincells and vice versa with Bokuto-san, huh), Kuroo-san snorted. " _Think_?" I'm pretty sure he's into you too, 'Kaashi, going by how he fucking responded to your goddamn 'safe travels.'"

Keiji flushed for the nth time. "Well," he coughed, "I'm very content with what we have right now. I review his food, I get his food, and we talk and see each other every now and then." He paused. "Though I would very much like being friends with him, I don't want to get in the way of his work."

Collectively, the others in the group call hummed in thought. It was a valid concern, and as working adults, no matter how much they wanted to tease or help Keiji, they all knew the value of work _especially_ during quarantine.

Don't get him wrong, Keiji loves his friends most times, and he's genuinely touched that even if they were teasing him, they were looking out for him as well. But he knew he was right—whatever he wanted with mister reverse onigiri wasn't of importance right now because they _both_ had work. The fact that Keiji technically meets him while they both on the clock and the basis of all their interactions should be a big sign enough that Osamu was, regardless of what Kuroo-san says, working and Keiji was his customer.

It was kind of sad and wishful of Keiji to even think about how would an alternate meeting have gone like—if they met in a time pre-pandemic or if they met without work binding them together and forcing them into interacting. Keiji tries his best to do away with his overthinking, has been trying since he graduated university; so far it's been working with little things like these, because when Udai-san brought up the topic earlier, Keiji managed to shut out the idea after at least five different first meeting ideas in his head. In a way, the fact he was thinking about it was telling that Keiji was getting _attached_ somehow—attached enough to wonder about different meetings as if he was with a star-crossed lover he wished to have met under different circumstances in a slow burn multi-chapter fic. Which wasn't the case, _thank you_ , Kuroo-san.

"Then..." Bokuto-san spoke up, breaking the silence. "Why don't you...help him with work?"

Wait.

What?

"What?" Udai-san asked, voice rising a bit with incredulity. " _How_ can he do that? Akaashi has his own work to do." Which was sad, _please_ don't remind him.

Bokuto-san shrugged. "I don't know," he said, "But he _could_ , right?"

"I appreciate the investment you all have in my love life and lack therrof," Keiji joined in with a small tired smile, pouring in as much heart he's capable of without inflating some egos. "I really do appreciate all of this, even if you all were having fun and will probably continue to have fun at my expense. But I don't want to get in the way of anything work-related for Osamu-san should it ever come down to that. I also have my own work to do, as said by Udai-san."

"We're here for you, Akaashi! And we want to you to be happy!" Bokuto-san grinned, doing his beam pose to the camera and making everyone chuckle. "I'm not good at thinking, but I can say that I'm _sure_ there's a way for you to talk to the meal-man of your dreams without compromising work!"

"Koutarou is right," Ma-kun chuckled. "Everything he said is right. And..." He looked at Kuroo-san beside him, who's taken one of their cats on his lap and began petting them. Ma-kun's face took on a mischievous look, and Kuroo-san raised an intrigued but equally as scheming brow. "I think I just came up with an idea."

Keiji felt the earlier sudden swell of affection die down.

"Oya?" Kuroo-san wiggled his eyebrows. "Do share with the audience, Kenma."

"Yes, do," Udai-san leaned forward, eyes wide with anticipation. "What did you think of?"

"Is this fun?!"

Keiji paled a bit at Bokuto-san's enthusiasm. "I hope this is legal _and_ fun, Ma-kun." He paused. "Actually, maybe I don't want to hear it anymore, please."

"Oh it is. It's very legal. Simple really," Ma-kun smiled at Kuroo-san before turning to smile knowingly at the camera. "Actually, Keiji, I think you'd like this idea a lot."

* * *

Keiji wasn't sure if he liked the idea _at all._

* * *

**Tuesday, 11:00**

**Onigiri Miya:** Akaashi-san! I don't know if you saw my post but I'm changing my ordering system for now and moving to cap orders. There's been a lot of demand lately for the food and since I'm alone, it's gotten pretty heavy haha

 **Onigiri Miya:** I hope this isn't too forward but if ever you'd like to order regardless, I'm open for personal orders. I appreciate all the reviews you've done for me, and since you're one of my favorite customers, I thought I'd extend this offer to you personally.

 **Onigiri Miya:** Sorry is this weird

**Wednesday, 15:00**

**Akaashi Keiji:** Good day, Osamu-san. I apologize for the late reply and for accidentally seenzoning you. Something came up. And no, don't worry this is not weird in the slightest. I appreciate the personal message, as well as the label of favorite customer. I have mentioned this before, but you are one of my favorite sellers as well. I would like to avail of your offer for personal orders, if the offer still stands.

 **Onigiri Miya:** Hey, Akaashi-san! No worries, I understand you must be busy. And of course, the offer will always be open to you! What would you like to order?

 **Akaashi Keiji:** What are your available offers?

 **Onigiri Miya:** Everything I've sold so far! Here you go!

 **Onigiri Miya:** [sent an attachment]

 **Onigiri Miya:** [sent an attachment]

 **Onigiri Miya:** [sent an attachment]

 **Onigiri Miya:** [sent an attachment]

 **Akaashi Keiji:** Received.

 **Akaashi Keiji:** Then I'd like one of everything, as usual.

 **Onigiri Miya:** Great! I'll send you the invoice through your email, as usual?

 **Akaashi Keiji:** Yes please.

 **Akaashi Keiji:** Actually, Osamu-san, if I may be so forward...may I provide a suggestion for your business?

 **Onigiri Miya:** Oh sure! I'm always open to suggestions, what is it?

 **Akaashi Keiji:** Are you open to external help?

 **Onigiri Miya:** I am, actually! I used to have a staff team for the restaurant, but while it's quarantine, I've been working alone

 **Onigiri Miya:** I've been looking for an assisstant actually haha especially since VA's are a thing now

 **Akaashi Keiji:** I see.

 **Akaashi Keiji:** I see you typing, but I will be typing a lot so please let me finish first.

 **Akaashi Keiji:** I cannot offer to be an assistant exactly, but I was thinking I can help you manage your orders? I find that you would probably be swamped with Direct Messages if you open shop for personal orders, so I was thinking I could maybe organize a form for you and help you collate responses.

 **Akaashi Keiji:** With that assumption in mind, I would also like to offer my photography services for a minimal fee to help with your product shoots. As per my previous reviews, your photos could be doing your products more justice if they were simply angled better or edited better. I noticed that there has been an improvement in them, however, but the offer still stands.

 **Akaashi Keiji:** I am not promoting my own business or anything, as photography is simply a hobby of mine; I'm a busy full-time manga editor working from home as it is, but I genuinely believe in you and your products, and as one of my favorite sellers and my few acquaintances in our building, I would like to extend my help as someone you can maybe call a friend of sorts.

 **Akaashi Keiji:** Again, I hope this does not come as condescending or patronizing. I simply want to be of help.

 **Akaashi Keiji:** I hope this wasn't too forward.

**Wednesday, 15:20**

**Akaashi Keiji:** Hello? Osamu-san? Are you there?

**Wednesday, 15:25**

**Akaashi Keiji:** ?

 **Akaashi Keiji:** I apologize, was this too rude?

**Wednesday, 15:30**

**Onigiri Miya:** aiedghjhisrjhg

 **Onigiri Miya:** [sent a sticker: riceball rolling]

 **Onigiri Miya:** [sent a sticker: chicken dancing]

 **Akaashi Keiji:** Osamu-san...?

**Wednesday, 15:34**

**Onigiri Miya:** aijiesjgiAkSAASfas

 **Onigiri Miya:** Sorry about that, Akaashi-san! That was my guest, he suddenly got in the way.

 **Onigiri Miya:** And no don't worry, you didn't come on bad at all! I'm actually really happy about your offer and suggestions!

 **Onigiri Miya:** They're all great and you're right, I'd very much appreciate your help! Don't worry about the payment, I trust you and I've seen your featured photos on Facebook, I think I can trust you

 **Onigiri Miya:** I *know I can trust you haha typo sorry

 **Onigiri Miya:** But yeah, I'd like to take you on that offer!

 **Onigiri Miya:** Actually

 **Onigiri Miya:** Can we talk about this in more detail with a call before I accept, if you don't mind? Just for formalities sake

 **Onigiri Miya:** Can I add you on my personal account or somewhere I can call you on?

**Wednesday, 15:39**

**Akaashi Keiji:** Sure, it's not a problem.

* * *

_**[Miya Osamu sent you a friend request. Respond?]** _

_[Decline] [Accept]_

**[Accept]**

* * *

_[You and Miya Osamu are now friends! Say hi!]_

_**[Miya Osamu sent you a message]** _

**Wednesday, 15:50**

**Miya Osamu:** Hi, Akaashi-san! Can we call now?

Keiji resisted the urge to scream—he wasn't sure if it was a scream of thanks to Ma-kun or a curse directed at him, he wasn't sure. His idea was sound and beneficial for all after all—"Offer to help him out. You don't have to work under him or throw away your job now. Work _with_ him, Keiji, not _for_ him."

And it made sense. It was really simple, like, _Bokuto-san_ simple. Keiji didn't realize how simple it was until he realized Bokuto-san actually planted the seed for the idea and Ma-kun—in true Kozume Kenma fashion, former strategic setter and current CEO and streamer focused on strategy games—helped cultivate that seed into a plant.

Now, it was up to Keiji to take care of the damn plant he didn't even ask for but will care for anyway. Because even if his friends wanted to see him suffer some more for their amusement, he knew and felt that they genuinely cared. And Akaashi Keiji, underneath it all, liked winning as much as any other former athlete did and wanted to pay back his debts to the people who meant the world to him.

Well, that's what he told himself—that this was just paying them for their efforts in drafting a message for Keiji to send with Kuroo-san's help, what with his background in marketing and public relations.

But...

He couldn't deny that he was... _excited_ for...whatever this could mean for him and Osamu-san. Sure, it was a win-win thing for everyone: Keiji gets food and a chance to practice his other hobby while earning and possibly getting to know Osamu-san better; Keiji's friends get a front-row seat (with social distancing) to Keiji's possible mess and will help him clean it up if ever and; Osamu-san will get the help his online business needs (thanks to Kuroo-san also giving Keiji a crash course on how to use online forms...just this once, Keiji thinks ' _Bless him_.') and if Kuroo-san was to be believed, he could benefit from getting to know Keiji better as well (and Keiji really, really, really wants to fix Osamu-san's photos. _God_.)

If this all goes wrong, Keiji has nothing to lose except really good food and the reverse onigiri back of the chef making them and seeing said chef at his doorstep.

But something tells him nothing will go wrong...or at least, nothing _too_ wrong.

When his overthinking brain agrees with something so sure and doesn't think too much about it like normal...well, how can Keiji say no to that?

**Wednesday, 15:55**

**Akaashi Keiji:** Hi, Osamu-san. Sure.

**_[Calling: Miya Osamu]_ **

On the screen came up Osamu-san's close-up profile photo—him dressed in the same long-sleeved black shirt with Onigiri Miya's logo on his left chest. He wore a cap with the same logo and a white apron. He looked at the camera with a small smile and crossed arms, and behind him was a wooden, but modern-looking restaurant—the actual Onigiri Miya, Keiji assumed.

Not for the first time, Keiji hoped he could see this Osamu-san in Onigiri Miya one day.

He took a deep breath, held it in for a few seconds, and sent a quick prayer to the gods. As he exhaled, he tapped the green icon on his phone.

_**[Connecting...]** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hc time!!  
> \- yes akaashi and osamu have never met each other in their hs in this fic's au!  
> \- bokuto and tsukki are babies of the group; tsukki is the member of the group that jumps between groups if he isnt avoiding people but they love him anyway  
> \- bokuto babie but will fight a man if he needs to AND hes slow but he understands people a lot  
> \- kuroo communication major (bcs "lowering the net") but went into marketing and PR. he wanted to work for an NGO that helps underprivileged kids learn sports and all but things happened and here he is; close enough  
> \- kuroo calls udai ukkun and yes kaashi calls kenma ma-kun  
> \- akaashi bad with internet culture if not needed for work is my favorite hc 
> 
> thanks for dropping by!! stay hydrated at all times ilyasm <333 glad ppl like this fic!! heheh AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY AKAAAASHIII <333 i hope hes having all the rice balls he can eat rn mwa thank u all again!!

**Author's Note:**

> no set update sched im sorry omfg but but!!! but aaa waasjs aaaathanks for dropping by!! ilyasm <3 :DD
> 
> hmu on twt/tumblr: @ sagikaashi 
> 
> have a nice day!


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